


Waking Up

by RainLily13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, season 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainLily13/pseuds/RainLily13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all just one, long, horrible nightmare. (Or, this is how I kinda wish 3b ended. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Stiles & Scott friendship feels ahead! Nothing triggering, I don’t think, but let me know if something’s there, please. Though, there are a couple of moments that could be considered as near panic attacks? 
> 
>  
> 
> [Note: This isn’t beta’d so the grammar is probably iffy. And I stayed up late to write this, so yeah. Dunno how, but it got really long lol.]

It was well past midnight that Stiles found himself still awake, incredibly exhausted, and too wired—too  _afraid_ —to close his eyes and pass out, no matter how appealing rest sounded.

He knew,  _knew_ , that the nogitsune was gone—he could feel it, sense it, that what laid underneath his skin was 100% pure Stiles. Somehow, his mind felt more of his own than it had in months. Though still cluttered with the mess and everything that had happened, it still felt clearer. It felt like  _his_ , and under his complete control.

He also knew what waited for him when he’d finally succumbed to sleep and he just—he wanted to put it off, just a little while longer. As much as he  _knew_ he deserved it, the nightmares with Allison taking center stage with Aiden at her side and a cast of various others rightfully blaming him for his part in their deaths, he just wanted a few more moments before he stepped into that special hell of his.

And he was afraid. After so long fearing sleep, it was a difficult instinct to turn off; to shake off the lingering fear of: is this real?

Sighing, Stiles raised his hands up to his face for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, spreading his fingers wide.

“One, two, three…” he counted, his whispers loud in the heavy silence of his room. “Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.”

Closing his eyes, Stiles sighed and went to put his hands back down at his side.

His arms froze midway, eyes snapping open. “No,” he barely managed to choke out, voice thick and broken with horror and his heart kicking into double speed.

He whipped his hands back up to his face—please say he just miscounted, he’s tired, it was totally possible,  _please, I just miscounted, please._

Eleven fingers were spread out before his face—eleven shaking fingers.

“No,” he repeated, his stomach sinking in one fell swoop, nausea curling at the bottom of his stomach and rising to tickle at the back of his throat. His vision spun, heart pounding in his ears and his head. “No, no, no, no, no!”

His vision went black.

* * *

“—iles!  _Stiles!_  Stiles, man, it’s okay—it’s okay!” Firm hands gripped his shoulders tightly, shaking him with only with the gentlest of force that it was more like rocking.

Stiles eyes shot open, mouth parted open to suck in a wild gasp, his hoarse whisper-screams cut short. His eyes darted across the room, not really focusing on anything until he realized he was being rocked again.

“Scott,” Stiles choked out, frantically looking around the room, this time actually registering what he was looking at. The hospital—he was in the hospital; he would recognize the ugly ass ceiling and walls anywhere. And Scott was at his side, still holding onto him but looking at him with wide eyes and fear etched into his face.

No but, impossible, he was  _in his room_. He was  _fine_. He had to be fine. The nogitsune was gone and Allison and Aiden and a ton of others were dead but the nogitsune  _wasn’t inside him anymore_. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t—

“Hey,  _hey_ ,” Stiles jumped and looked up to see Scott up close and personal, catching his gaze and locking it down—Stiles couldn’t look away even if he wanted to, not with the way his best friend’s red eyes pinned him in his place. “Listen, you  _need_  to calm down. You passed out during the MRI scan—you remember that?” Stiles nodded silently, wide eyed and swallowing thickly. “The doctors said you had a panic attack because of the noise and small space.”

Stiles stared, uncomprehending. “I—what?” he croaked. The MRI scan—from a couple of weeks ago? No.  _No_. That couldn’t— _no_. He shook his head immediately. “No, what—” he stopped short, his throat so parched that he started coughing.

Scott quickly took the water on the stand nearby—half full, no doubt Scott’s—and helped Stiles sit up and drink enough, muttering, “Slowly, slowly, and just a little, I’m not sure I should be giving you some in the first place.”

“What about the nogitsune?” Stiles demanded once Scott pulled away, voice thick and rough and weak but at least understandable.  _Is this real? Or am I dreaming? What the hell is happening, I thought it was **over**._

Scott startled, jerking back to stare at him in surprise. “How did you—how did you know about that?”

Stiles blinked, studied Scott in turn. “What do you mean?” he rasped.

“The nogitsune,” Scott said urgently. “You were possessed by it. Derek said it had to have been when Kira absorbed all the electricity at the plant—she’s a kitsune too, apparently, but like, a good one—and it used the energy to jump into you. But dude, you’ve been in a coma ever since. It’s been almost two weeks.”

“ _What?_ ” Stiles repeated, voice cracking. He didn’t know whether to panic, break down and start crying, or  _scream_.  _What the hell is **happening**_? “Scott, what the hell are you  _talking_  about? I already know all of this—not about the coma, but Kira—she’s a what, thunder kitsune, and her mom is a kitsune too, and she’s the one controlling the oni to sniff out the nogitsune. Not exactly news, man.”

Scott stared at him, as if he just grew another head. “No. There’s no way you could know all that. You’ve been out in this bed for like two whole weeks. Your dad is going  _crazy_ with worry and the doctors are stumped ‘cause you should’ve woken up ages ago. _”_

Stile stared at him in return. “Scott,” he said slowly, with such calm that he was surprised he could even manage. “You need to tell me exactly what happened because as far as I know, these past couple of weeks I’ve been possessed—some evil spirit bent on chaos decided it would be fun to take me for a cheap joyride amd go on a killing spree,  Allison and Aiden being just a few that it murdered before we managed to stop it and get it out of me and—”

“Dude, Allison—Allison is perfectly fine,” Scott interrupted, his face suddenly pale, voice stricken at the thought of her dead. “The twins are still pretty much assholes, but last I heard, they were still alive too.”

“What?” Stiles repeated, voice soft and high, too close to a whimper for his comfort but he couldn’t care because  _Allison is alive and so is Aiden and if I’ve been asleep then all the people that died aren’t dead and oh God, I’m crying._

“Holy—crap, Stiles, man, you’re like—leaking,” Scott said frantically, panicking and Stiles couldn’t help the disbelieving, watery laugh that bubbled out from his mouth. “I swear, you’ve been out this whole time. Deaton said it was the nogitsune trying to take over your mind but you’ve been fighting it for control and you won, Stiles, you  _won_. It was gross and scary, you were choking and your heart was going crazy until you finally hacked out this fly. Derek caught it with this box of his, made—“

“From the wood of the nemeton,” Stiles said with Scott, a grin stretching across his face when Scott made a face and pouted.

“How did you  _know_ that?”

Stiles shook his head. “The—the dream, or nightmare I was having or whatever. It was so real—but in it, instead of me having a panic attack the nogitsune took control in the MRI room. But I guess it was just a game—or maybe what would have happened if it did really take control. But in the end, I won either way.”

“Thank God,” Scott muttered after a moment, once he took it all in. “I don’t know what we would have done.”

Stiles just shrugged. “Could have just given me the bite, I guess. I mean, that’s true too, right?”

Scott went curiously still, before he slumped in his seat. “Of course you know about that too,” he muttered under his breath, and Stiles raised an eyebrow. Scott gave a sheepish shrug. “Yeah, yeah, it is. But I mean, it was a last resort. I know you never wanted the bite.”

Stiles looked away, picking nervously at a loose thread in the thin hospital blanket draped across him. “If it would have saved other people…” he trailed off, shrugging.

“It still could’ve kill you, and I don’t think I…”

Stiles looked up to see Scott shake his head, hands gripping the plastic chair handles so hard they were creaking.

“A couple of the others—they thought I should have done it when we first found out it could cure you. Who knew when you would wake up and who it would be. But if there was a chance…” Scott sighed, glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. “I dunno. Derek,” he huffed wryly, shot Stiles a glance. “He said to give you a chance to beat it. Said if anyone could beat the nogitsune at its own game, it would be you.  Said if you couldn’t at least outsmart it, then you’d probably annoy it so much that it’ll leave willingly anyway,” he joked.

Stiles lips quirked. “I’m flattered. Really,” he deadpanned. The grin on his face said that he wasn’t lying though.

Scott snickered. “And well, I had faith in you. Allison and Lydia and your dad, even freaked out as he was—we all knew you could do it.”

His grin widened, and Stiles shook his head ruefully. “Hey,” he said quietly, his grin fading, and Scott peered over with a look of genuine concern. “Do me a favor?”

Scott nodded readily, eyebrows furrowed, and Stiles lifted his hands, spread and wiggled his fingers before curling them. His best friends face smoothed over, lips stretching into a lopsided smile.

“One, two, three,” Scott counted as Stiles ticked off his fingers. “Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” he concluded with a final nod. “You’re good.”

Stiles laid back, melting into the hospital bed. “I’m still not sure if I’m dreaming,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “If this isn’t just another trick to lull me into some sense of false security.”

He could feel Scott shifting closer, the heat radiating from him, and relaxed further when he placed a comforting hand on his forearm—he didn’t even realize he was still so tense.

“I… the nogitsune thing, it must have really messed with your head, huh?”

Stiles nodded, squeezing his eyes tightly when they started stinging. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I was—I was scared and running ragged and dying and  _other_ people were dying and getting hurt left and right and it was all my fault, all because I wasn’t strong enough to keep it out and—”

Scott’s grip on his arm tightened. “You were,” he interrupted. “You kicked it out, Stiles. And it’s gone.”

Stiles nodded,  gathering himself back under control. “You’re getting really good at that—that whole, knowing what to say, keeping it calm and boosting morale and shit,” he commented lightly, trying to change the subject.

Scott grinned widely, bounced a bit on his heels. “Well, I  _am_  the alpha.”

He rolled his eyes. “You fucker,”  Stiles muttered fondly.

Laughing, Scott stood, patting Stiles’ arm. “Hey. I’m gonna go tell my mom you woke up—should have done it when you first did, actually. She’ll call your dad, and,” he paused, eyebrows furrowing before he gave a decisive nod. “And I’ll call Allison. She’ll be happy to see you awake, and you seeing her alive, I’m guessing.”

Stiles nodded appreciatively, and before Scott could leave, called out his name. “Hey Scott?” His best friend paused, glanced at him from over his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Scott looked at him, confused. “For what? You did all the work.”

Stiles shook his head. “This… this nogitsune—he made everything so  _real_ , I don’t know if he was spying on you guys, or if it was just my perception of you guys and what you all would have done. But, even if it wasn’t real, if it  _didn’t_ happen, everything you done in there you would’ve done out here—you did, actually. You, uh, you never gave up on me. Even when it would’ve been a hundred times easier to.”

“Stiles,” Scott whispered, blinking fast against suddenly wet eyes, and  _God_ , Scott could get so emotional so fast and the worst part was that it made  _his_ own eyes start stinging. “Stiles, you’re my brother. I’d never give up on you.”

“I, uh, same.” Stiles swallowed thickly. “Yeah, okay, glad we got all of that settled. Jesus, get out of here, man. You’re gonna make me cry— _again_.”

Scott made an offended noise of protest. “You started it! With, with that whole speech of yours about not giving up on you!” Still, he was grinning, teary-eyed and all as he backed his way out of the room. “You’ve got only yourself to blame!” he called out as he left.

Stiles swiped at his eyes. “Fucker,” he repeated, even more fondly than before. 

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, lol. This is the first time I've ever wrote for Teen Wolf though, so I hope you guys liked it!
> 
> Find me at [tumblr](crazyfuzzyedges.com).


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